“So Jignesh, that header seems a bit off by a couple of pixels…”

laptop turns off, silence

“…Jignesh?”

silence, then a voice from the other room

“Honey, everything just stopped… You should come and see this!”

They immediately opened the door onto their balcony, and looked outside. Everything literally stopped: there were cars down in the street, but all engines were off. Someone started shouting, but overall there was an eerie silence all around.

“My phone turned off! …even my work one is off, and I don’t seem to be able to turn it on! Even my laptop is off, but how can it be?!”

“The electricity is off, everything is off!”

The two stopped for an instant, unsure about what was happening. Then an extremely loud noise. Like something falling from the sky, suddenly.

“Was that a bomb? Are we under attack?!”

“Paddy! Paddy O'Shea! Will ye kill the engine on that noisy yoke for a second, will ye?!”

“Liam! Is that yourself? What in the name of God is the matter with ye?”

“It’s me new Massey. She gave up the ghost completely. Not a kick out of her! And to beat it all, me feckin’ smart phone is dead as a doornail. No signal, no nothing.”

“Sure, didn’t I tell ye? I told ye you were soft in the head throwing good money on that fiddle machine. Too many sensors and computers! Look at the Lambo here. She’s forty years on the go, hardy as a goat. I couldn’t stop her working even if I took a sledgehammer to her.”

“Aye, ye have the laugh on me now, alright. Here, would there be any chance of a lend of the Lambo when you’re finished up here?”

“Ah, sure, no bother at all. Take her away. My throat is dusty anyway. Will we head down the road for a pint?”

“I think I need one to settle the nerves, Paddy. I do surely. Good man yourself.”

---

Classification: Controlled Unclassified Information

Source: North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD)

On 2025-05-26 at exactly 08:29:12 UTC, the instrumentation of the ground facility of Cheyenne Mountain Complex CO (USA) operated by the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) detected nine simultaneous nuclear detonations over the following regions:

• Nebraska
• Amazon basin
• Central Europe
• Congo
• Iran
• Mongolia
• Thailand
• Northern Australia
• Siberia

All nuclear devices were detonated at 400km altitude, and each had a yield of approximately 1.85Mt.

Such detonations caused a simultaneous and instantaneous High-Altitude Electro Magnetic Pulse (HEMP) on a global scale, with the following components:

• The E1 pulse that occurred within nanoseconds from detonation produced huge voltages across conductive materials. Given the source of origins of each detonation, it is safe to assume that most conductive material, such as complex integrated circuitry common in today’s electronic devices, has been permanently damaged, rendering devices permanently inoperable worldwide.
• The E2 and E3 pulses that immediately followed is expected to have irreparably damaged most power grids, causing interruption of electricity worldwide.

NORAD instrumentation was unable to track any missile trajectory in the minutes or seconds prior to the detonation.

NORAD was able to successfully establish contact with some military installations throughout the United States that were built to withstand EMP and radiations. It is however assumed that any unshielded or unhardened modern electronic device has ceased to function, including but not limited to:

• computers
• smartphones and other handhelds
• TV sets or screens
• cars, planes and other vehicles manufactured after year 1990

Devices that were shielded or placed in isolated metal containers are however still likely to turn on. Devices with less complex integrated circuits manufactured from 1970 to 1990 may still be operational.

It is likely that global-scale consumer networks such as the Internet are no longer operational. Communication is still possible through some military channel relying on hardened and shielded infrastructure.

Based on the analysis of the detonations and their high altitude, there is no radiation danger for the population, animals, or plants; only electronic devices have been affected.

---

“Morning Finn, here’s the new batch, just came in.”

“Thank you Jarrod, let me help you offload…”

Finn started offloading the boxes from the kart onto the loading pad. As usual, there were exactly 32 perfectly cubic boxes, each containing the body of a DigiTerm, and another 32 smaller boxes to go with each of them, containing the corresponding internal components. Each unit had to be carefully assembled, configured, tested, and stamped as approved by a Senior System Configurator able to guarantee that it was fully functioning as intended. That was Finn: Senior System Configurator and Licensed Digital Auditor, 3rd Class.

“And here are the directives for this batch, if you could just sign them off for me…”

Finn pushed his DigiCard into the reader, waited for it to be validated, and nodded back at Jarrod, who continued his rounds.

“Right, let’s see what needs to be done with these” thought Finn, as he pressed the start button to begin the batch configuration procedure. The conveyor belt began to move, moving the first two boxes onto the assembly pad.

Finn verified that the correlation ID matched and entered it in his terminal along with the serial number for the unit:

** Éireann Digital Systems
** DigiTerm Assembly and Configuration
   v2050.2.33.56
   Licensed to: Finn Consoli
   
## Batch ID: 
>> 2050.355.QSS38

** Validating batch...
** Validation complete. 
** Proceed with unit registration.

## Unit ID:
>> G577.205012.776DD
## Correlation ID
>> 776DD-3386W9

** Retrieving configuration parameters...
** Configuration 66T1W8 received.
** Proceed with unit assembly.

“Oh, another W8. Primary education system. They are really getting serious about introducing DigiTerms in primary schools… I guess the new generations are going to be truly digitalized after all.” He thought.

Finn loved his job: he was one of the few people in the country allowed to configure the new G577 generation of DigiTerms, that was going to be in service for the next two years. All being well, he was also going to be one of the few people in the country allowed to review and repurpose the same units in two years time, when their certification was going to be up for renewal.

He knew everything about the G577s, and their internal components: depending on their designation, they could mount 6502/a1 processors through 6502/a5, and include one of dozens different system configuration variants. W8s came with DigiText™, DigiDraw™, and the rest of the Standardized Primary Digital Education Package, for example.

** Powering on...
** Unit turned on and ready for configuration.
## Confirm end-of-certification date:
## 2052-10-27 [y/n]
>> n
## Enter new end-of-certification date:
>> 2060-10-27
** Validating certification period..
!! Level 10 override code required
>> !cancel
## Enter end-of-certification date:
>> 2052-10-27

“Everything OK Finn? Does that need an extended certification override for some reason?”

“No Sarah, sorry, I misread the instruction sheet, it’s all good.”

Finn started wondering how a 10-year certification could possibly work. He couldn’t think of any reason to have the same terminal certified for ten years: without periodic re-certification (at least) it would most definitely be exploited by hackers and become a huge security risk. He completed the configuration of unit G577.205012.776DD, and did another four after that before the end of his day.

17:10 - He had another half an hour before the next shuttle, so he went down to the company pub for a quick pint.

The company pub, or DigiPub as it was called among EDS employees, was actually a traditional pub that predated the industrial estate itself. It had been preserved exactly like one of the historical pubs you’d find in the centre of Cork, but it was only for EDS employees. Not that it meant it didn’t get enough patrons: between the shuttle times allowing for at least a pint after shifts and the reduced rates, you’d sometimes struggle to find a free table some days. Wooden tables, dart boards, friendly bartenders, and the smell of a freshly prepared pint: the DigiPub had it all you would expect from a proper city public house.

“Finn, over here, we saved you a spot”

Finn carefully balanced his new, overflowing pint of Guinness and made his way to the table where his friends were. Cillian, Eoin, and the others were definitely more than simple colleagues: they all met regularly at the pub and even outside work with their respective families for weekend dinners and hikes.

“Look at this, another DigiHub compromised, on Cornmarket St!” said Cillian while waving the paper. He was quickly getting agitated because he configured the H72 hubs that were deployed in that area, so he was very sensitive to these things. He started reading the article aloud:

“The DigiHub at the intersection between Kyrl’s St and Cornmarket St was reported as compromised on Monday, as a garda on duty noticed an unusual number of people accessing the terminal. After interviewing a few of the users, it became clear that the meter of the DigiHub had been hijacked to allow close to unlimited DigiNet access for the nominal fee of 3p, that had to be entered as an exact amount in three coins at the very start of the session to trigger the exploit. Technicians familiar with the system estimated that approximately £2,000 worth of DigiNet data had been accessed thanks to the exploit over a period of approximately two days. EDS was contacted but declined to comment […]”

“Those punks. I mean, what the actual f***!” he shouted, putting down the paper and reaching for his pint.

“You gotta admit that unmetered DigiNet access would be pretty cool…”

“Whose side are you on?!” He interrupted abruptly, and continued on with a rather colorful but imaginary description of the hackers that perpetuated the attack.

Still, Finn had a weird feeling about the incident, and about the hackers that did it. Something between sympathy and admiration for those individuals that committed the crime, almost in a Robin Hood kind of way. Not to mention the skills that those people must have had to pull off such a stunt. They most definitely were… – he tried to remember that word his father used all the time – programmers, able to actually rewrite the code of a running system, or something like that.

Between Cillian rambling and the others winding him up as if the incident was his fault, Finn almost lost track of time. The InfoBanner above the counter started flashing the time of the next shuttle: he had four minutes to get on the platform! He quickly downed his pint, paid, and dashed out of the pub.

He just about managed to catch the 17:45 shuttle, and luckily he had a 20p coin for the fare box.

The shuttle took just over half an hour to get Finn to just outside his flat. As he got in, he threw his coat and briefcase on the sofa and turned on his DigiBox for the evening mail download.

** Éireann Digital Systems
** DigiMail - National Digital Post
   v2050.4.33.18
   Licensed to: Finn Consoli

** Mail download 2 of 2. 
!! No more dowloads available for today.
** Downloading 5 messages...

Finn went to the kitchen to put the boiler for tea while waiting for the mail to download, and then came back to check again. Meanwhile, his roommate Matt just came in, looking rather tired. Finn nodded at him, without moving his eyes away from the screen.

** You have 5 new messages.
   1 - aisoha27@cork.eire - Grab a bite? 
   2 - vitcon83@cork.eire - Fae's 30th
   3 - faecon20@cork.eire - Need a favor
   4 - keioke24@cork.eire - New engine arrived!
   5 - digimail@net.eire - Your montly statement
>> read 1
** Date: 2050-11-27 @ 13:10:27
** From: Aisling O'Hara <aisoha27@cork.eire>
** Subject: Grab a bite?

   Hey you!
   There's a new French bistrot place down in French Church Street, wanna try it out this Saturday?
   
   xx Aisling
>> 

The phone rang. Finn got up to reach the phone before reading the second email.

“Dad! I was literally reading your mail now… No, not yet… Right! Of course… Sure, she’d love that! …Of course I’ll come. Yes. Saturday… Saturday at noon. Oh… no wait, see there’s this girl in town, and we were actually going to have lunch together on Sunday, and… Can’t we move this thing to Sunday maybe? …Yes I know! No, tell Mum I’ll be there. Of course I love my sister, that’s not the point… Dad! OK, see you on Saturday.”

Finn could not believe that. Of course the one day he was going to finally have his chance with Aisling had to be exactly the same day when his sister Fae turned 30. He also didn’t like the fact that his father expected him to have already read a mail he had sent just four hours before! That was a problem with millennial parents, they always wanted instant communication, instant feedback, instant validation… It was a generational thing, from a different time, characterised by a general over-dependence on technology. Luckily, that was no longer a problem now, he thought.

“Matt, free food on Saturday, my big sister is turning 30, and my mum is cooking a simple dinner for ten, you in?”

Matt turned towards Finn and looked at him with a blank stare. He was tempted by Mrs. Consoli’s legendary cooking skills, but at the same time he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect. Finn noticed that and added promptly:

“Oh… hot nurse Jenny is coming too mind, if you…”

“Yep, I’m in!” said Matt smiling, interrupting.

The two laughed hard. Finn was glad that he was going to have at least one friend at that dinner table, and Matt… well, he was just thinking about Jenny, really.

Finn kept going through his mail, and eventually opened one from his sister:

** Date: 2050-22-27 @ 15:46:13
** From: Fae Consoli <faecon20@cork.eire>
** Subject: Need a favor
   My favorite little bro!
   Listen, we are probably gonna meet on Saturday, I guess. I know... and don't even try blaming me for this: you know how much mom and dad care about these things right! Yeah, I am as thrilled as you are.
   
   Anyhoo... how can I say this. I am working on a piece on digital stuff, and I was wondering if you could figure out a way to bring me one of the reference manuals for an old DigiTerm. Really, not the newest model, not even the one from two years ago... the older, the better, actually. Could you do it for me, please?
   
   That could be my birthday present if you want... see? two birds with one stone!
   
   See you with the country folks on Saturday!
   Fae
   
   P.S. Tell Matt that Jenny is coming... maybe train him a little bit this time, so that he doesn't just keep repeating what she says and actully tries to make some conversation?

Finn rolled his eyes. As usual, her sister wanted something… but again, her big birthday was coming up, so…

“Fae, how’s that story on Corkmas coming along?” Shouted a voice across the office.

“It’s coming along Pete, it’s coming along. Just give me a couple of hours…” she shouted back from her desk.

“That does not look like the Corkmas piece… lemme guess, you’re gonna write it in the last half hour before we go to print, as usual…”

“Pete… you’ll have it, you know you will…”

“Sure. But you can bring it to my office, in half an hour then, OK?” Rebutted Pete. He knew he was going to get the article in time, but he also knew that Fae was onto something. Something big, judging by the amount of handwritten notes, photos, and piles of paper she had scattered on her desk. And he was very curious about that. After all, Fae was one of the most promising and prolific reporters of the Examiner: when she was onto something, she needed her space, and she hated having to do busy work. At the same time, though, Pete knew that she had to fall in line, at least occasionally so that the rest of the office wouldn’t think that you could get away with everything as long as you brought juicy stories to print.

In reality, he kinda wished he had more people like Fae, but probably that would have meant complete anarchy in the whole newsroom.

Sure enough, after exactly thirty minutes, Fae got up from her busy desk near the window, she vigorously hit the PRINT button on her DigiTerm and proceeded to march off to the printing room, from where she came out just a few seconds afterwards with a single printed sheet of paper in her hands. She dribbled through the copywriters’ row, dodged Mark that was trying very precariously to balance a tray of hot black coffees destined for the editors, and… almost stormed into Pete’s office. She insistently knocked the door three times and then opened it, before Pete could open his mouth to tell her to come in.

“Martha, would you mind? We have something urgent to discuss…” said Pete, inviting the person that was sitting in his office to leave the room so that he could talk to Fae alone.

“Oh… the Corkmas emergency, is it? Sure…” muttered Martha in her way out, briefly staring at Fae, coldly.

“Here’s your Corkmas scoop, Pete, right on time. Can I go…”

“Sit down, Fae. This is not about the damn Corkmas piece.” said Pete firmly, standing up from his desk just as Fae sat down.

“Fae… would you please tell me what the hell you are doing here? It’s nearly 10 on a Friday night.”

“I had to finish the Corkmas piece before we go to print! You know that!”

“That’s the excuse for you to stay in the office after hours, Fae. I want to know what you are really working on right now. And which lawyer I need to ring, so that we are more prepared this time.”

“I was preparing the Corkmas piec…”

“Fae, for Heaven’s sake. Let me rephrase: would you please tell me why I am being sent a bill of hundreds of punts per month for DigiNet trafffic, and most of it goes to your terminal?”

Fae immediately lost all her boldness and kept looking down, in silence.

“Well! How bad is it this time! And how big?”

Fae took a deep breath and started explaining what was really going on.

“Pete, this could be huge. I have been monitoring all attacks to the digital infrastructure since… well, since they became a thing, really. Now… you know I am also part Italian, and that I keep an eye on what’s going on over there…”

“So we are looking at international data downloads. Fantastic. This gotta be real good Fae…” interrupted Pete, who was getting quite worked up. Had it been anyone else, he would have probably docked their pay to compensate, but he did have a soft spot for Fae. Or better, for her scoops.

“Well, there have been similar incidents in Northern Italy. And in France. And in Germany. Hijacked DigiHubs, hacked data traffic meters, talks of right to repair and right to program… there is a pattern Pete. These incidents are not isolated. They are getting more frequent, they follow the same patterns, and I am sure I can get to the bottom of this, at least locally.”

“What do you mean patterns? Are you saying someone is coordinating different attacks to the digital infrastructure? And that exactly the same attacks are happening in different countries?” asked Pete, whose anger started to quickly turn into excitement.

“Yes. I need more time though Pete. At least another three weeks… to try to tie most of the loose ends…”

“I give you a week. And you give me a headline, now!”

Fae felt relieved, and she stopped for a few seconds to think, and then said:

“Not just DigiPunks — Inside the worldwide digital underground network”

Pete pictured that headline printed on the front page and his face turned into a big smile. Fae smiled back, got up, and left his office, eager to get back to work.